A twins tale
by Mrs Moony Padfoot and Prongs
Summary: Two babies, One boy, One girl, Two lives, One nightmare, Harry Potter had a sister who was almost nonexistant to the wizarding world but she existed all the same, this is their tale.
1. Chapter 1

Lily was screaming and crying through a sea of blood, she was more than ready to get rid of the baby she had been carrying for so long but god, the pain she felt she was sure she was going to throttle James for putting her in this position, sensing her thoughts he turned to her placing a kiss on his wife's head through the sweat that was now dripping off, she seemed to swallow her fear and gave the hardest push yet and then the room erupted into cheers about a boy, Lily cried tears for what must have been the billionth time that night, the difference being those were ones of absolute bliss from the beautiful baby boy she had just given life to, semi aware of James bursting up to see.

It only took 9 months and what seemed like constant mood swings but she knew she had done it, but while the rest of the room were still celebrating her new born baby she knew there was something wrong. James who was looking over his new baby with the most beautiful smile Lily had ever seen him smile, but as he looked up at his wife he could see the discomfort she was still experiencing despite having already had the baby.

"Healer? Something's wrong, Lily doesn't look any better." He was trying to keep the worry from lacing his voice but she heard it anyway, unfortunately she couldn't tell him she was fine because at that moment she started to feel the same pain as before and screeched in response.

"Jam- James, it's another one, we… we're having twins," she had been gritting her teeth through that whole sentence, trying not to display her fury at not being informed of the extra pain.

_God, I should have taken those droughts._

While Lily pleaded with God telling him how she'd pick up his faith, go to church, read the bible every day need be it if it would spare her from this pain, her healers were flustering around her waving their wands doing tests in the heat of the moment while all the nurses were mumbling something in shocked tones.

All the colour that the little baby (who was currently being mopped up by one of the nurses) had given James was currently being drained out.

"Bloody hell, you're sure?" he asked, his voice trembling, but he moved like a rocket to Lily, grasping one of her hands again.

"You bloody twat, of course I'm sure!" Molly had told her how much twins hurt more than your average baby but she should have listened more instead of fawning over the labour of all this toil.

"She's right, you," he pointed to a healer in training, "Get more towels, quickly! Okay Mrs Potter, breathe deep, this will be different from the last time, so I need you to breathe deeply and keep a pace and with each breathe remember to push, think you can do that for me?"

She glared at him but followed his instructions but soon lost it as she sobbed through one of her contractions. She soon consoled herself but had difficulty picking up the pace she had managed for all but 2 seconds again

"Keep trying Mrs Potter, it's vital that you do," James took this time to breathe deeply himself.

"Lily, those babies will be our babies forever, and every time I look at them I'm going to be reminded about how perfect you are and I know you can do this, because of me, because of them and because you're the strongest person I know, and I know it hurts more than I'll ever know but I'll be there after this is over, bringing you hot chocolate whenever you can't sleep, making hideously bad jokes, and scaring you half to death, but it'll be me okay? Plus two beautiful babies who I hope ever so much will make the same bad jokes," he joked, laughing with a husky voice he had acquired from the unshed tears that were threatening to spill over cheeks, however as Lily was somewhat busy she just took his words smiling despite the pain the rocked her body, took a shaky breath and pushed so hard she thought she was going to collapse, the babies whole body moved through in one quick motion then the cry of a baby that after having cut the cord was put with its brother.

"Is it a girl or a boy?" Lily whimpered. Not because she minded but in that moment her main concern was the nursery they might need to redecorate however in that moment of disorientation she saw it as the biggest issue.

"Darling," James tears were now rolling down his cheeks, "It's a girl and she's just as beautiful as her mummy, Lily they're both so beautiful…" he took Lily neck and cried tears of joy at the beautiful babies James had imagined since the day he met her.

A healer brought over to bundles of blue and pink over to the exhausted mother,

"Would you like to hold them?" she asked her gently,

"Yes! A thousand times yes!" she was suddenly so much more active –although physically but she hesitated, "I won't hurt them will I?" Looking at their tiny pink faces the thought of anyone hurting them disgusted her beyond belief.

"Oh sweetie no, just be careful, here," she showed the mother how to correctly hold her babies while the father watched in wonder how they took to their mother with such ease.

"Lily they're so beautiful, what should we call them?" asked James over Lily's shoulder.

"We were going to call the boy Harry anyway, but I'm not sure about the girl, what do you think?" Lily asked softly, as not to make them cry.

"Rose?"

"I think not, I don't know if I want another flower in the family."

"Honey?"

"James does she look like a Honey? And really? Honey and Harry Potter? I can just hear the taunting."

"Okay, okay point taken" he smirked, "Winter?"

"I think we're missing a season sweetie, it's only the end of summer" Granted it wouldn't suit this little baby but at least we were getting closer to names that are actual possibilities.

"Harry what do you think?" James asked, picking up his baby but when Harry got a good look at his eyes they were beautiful, the same green eyes he had fallen in love with were displayed on his face but the rest of the baby had an undeniable resemblance to himself and James felt overwhelming proud of the family he was now a part of.

"Talia?" Lily asked the two little babies,

They both frowned and their girl started crying at the thought of being named that.

"Okay, shhh, it's okay darling," Lily looked over at James and thought, "What about Charlotte huh? My little baby Charlotte…" Lily stroked her daughters pink face and the love that emanated from the four of them was so much so that the Healer on hands breath caught, 20 years of doing this job and yet every time it was the same.

The fathers face broke out in a grin and the two babies smiled softly at the name.

"Our baby Lily, our beautiful babies Harry and Charlotte. Lily, I didn't think it was possible to love you more, but here I am, wrong again."

"Hasn't been the first time, probably won't be the last," she jokes.

"Can Sirius and Remus be their godfathers? I would consider Peter but he's awful with kids," James remarks.

Lily takes a deep breath, "Remus can't be their godfather James, not that he wouldn't be a good parent if anything happened but the new laws… I checked, werewolves are not allowed to adopt children, it's unfair but the wizarding world keeps tight reigns on all of their prejudices, anyway I was thinking…" James groaned.

"What?" Lily asked.

"You're thinking about Snivillus for godfather aren't you?" He drawled nastily.

"Don't call him that! Please James, he'd protect them as much as he could, he'd try so hard…"

"Is this really what you want?" he asked her,

She nodded with tears in her eyes at the memory of her old friend and their broken friendship.

"Fine, want to flip a sickle for which one gets Sirius and Snive- Severus?" James corrected himself.

"Thank you James, for what it's worth Remus would have been my second choice too. I suppose we should do Sirius first, heads Harry and tails Charlotte."

James pulled out a sickle but instead of flipping the coin he palmed it first,

"If we do this then that's it. No going back Lils." James stated.

Lily decided it would be better to just nod then to say anything; she had faith that Severus would pull through in the end and become the man she used to see shine through Severus when they were teenagers.

James unclasped his fist and threw it in the air, it turned three times before he caught it one handed, took a deep breath and opened it.

"It's heads, Sirius will be Harry's godfather." In truth James doubted that Sirius would ever be able to deal with a girl the same he could with a boy so the fact that it was Harry was probably safer considering.

"He'll be wonderful James, I need you to send a letter to Severus though while I get clean, okay baby?" she asked, still exhausted from delivering the two babies although less now that before, funny how it's so easy to look back on things that have already happened and think it wasn't so bad.

"Me? Honey I don't know if you've noticed but we have a mutual hatred, one of the guidelines being we don't owl each other." He explained, desperate not to talk to the man.

"No buts, have fun," she waved him goodbye laughing to herself at how uncomfortable it would be for the both of them, "and if you even dare be rude to him I will burn your broomstick, understood?" Grabbing her things for a nice long bath.

"Not like I'll get a choice either way…" he grumbled as Lily just got up to leave, "Oh and Lily?" she turned, both her feet stuck in the middle of the doorframe, "I love you."

"I love you too; you and those little babies are my world now James." She decided to leave the conversation there, eager to be surrounded in soothing warm water.

"Severus, she picked you. We had twins, one boy and one girl. They're named Harry and Charlotte.

You're Charlotte's godfather. If the war takes us then it's your responsibility to look after her and by extension Harry.

-James"

Severus read these words over and over again,

"She picked you," she didn't though. She picked James, because out of all the bastards she could have fell in love with it had to be him. Life always had a way of being exceptionally cruel.

But now he had a person to look after if anything happened, the problem being that that could be an unfortunate reality because of this war, Severus refused to see it that way though, he refused to acknowledge anything would happen, he decided he'd keep up his hatred, after all he was just a formality because that Lupin couldn't be her damn godfather, Lily had made her choice long ago and nothing had changed, all that was left of the Lily he knew were the memories he had, she couldn't even write the damn letter, he obviously was only there as a reminder of a better time.

But Severus cried himself to sleep that night at the blatant evidence that she had truly left him, and it still seemed dreadfully unfair to him that he have to endure the "privilege" of godfather while if he hadn't messed up so long ago he could have very possibly been the children's real father.

He got up in the middle of the night, reminding himself he had to owl them telling them he had been informed and for the sake of the Lily he once knew he accepted, knowing all too well this could be the worst thing ever did but the reminder of flaming red locks and piercing green eyes made the decision for him, he only hoped that one day he would lose his guilt, that one day even if it must be in death, that he could be happy.

"Understood-

Congratulations,"

That was the last correspondence that those two ever had, Snape refused to come to the birthing party, or the christening, or any of the parties, and then later when tragedy would hit he wouldn't even find himself at their funerals.


	2. Chapter 2

A year later Severus found himself outside a room in The Hogs Head eavesdropping on Dumbledore and Trelawney about prophecies and what not, a conversation the dark lord would pay handsomely for he was sure.

He was bitter; it never seemed fair how those who got everything did so well despite countless people telling each other that the "Nerd" in school does well in life and yet the bully had gotten everything he'd ever wanted to in this tale was just too harsh a truth for Snape to fathom. Besides the fact of the matter was that he was a death eater, even if he wanted to get out of the situation with Voldemort he couldn't, not alive by any means at least.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... "

Then a stumbling inside the room caught him off guard and all of a sudden he was pulled up into the air the barman's teeth bared in front of Severus.

"Out." One word, one syllable, but it did it, he followed the instruction and left but afterwards he made sure to tell his master about what had transpired in that room , not thinking of the repercussions.

* * *

_"Lily, take them and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off -" _Then a sickening thud resounded throughout the house as James' body hit the ground. The creak of floorboards was they only noise for a few seconds while Lily looked over her children's crib whispering soothing words to them all the while.

In one sweep blow he entered the room, the sudden movements made the babies think it was their father and they started giggling at the foreign sight unaware of what was taking place but then something in the room shifted and they both stopped laughing simultaneously.

_"Don't take them, please don't take them!" _Lily pleaded, not that it changed anything.

_"Stand aside you silly girl … stand aside now." _At this point she was crying, knowing full well that she had lost not only her husband's life but also her kids.

_"Not my babies, please no, take me, kill me instead - " _Those were the last words that Lily Potter ever said, the magic flowing through her words as she reached a hand inside the cot and both babies clutching to it until she dropped to the floor and her hand being yanked down with her.

* * *

Of course what he had told The Dark Lord came back to haunt him because on Halloween night his goddaughter and her brother were left orphans, Lily dying that night is the biggest burden he will bear in his lifetime and while Severus lay crying in a heap at Dumbledore's feet wishing for his life to be over so he could join her, so it could change back to the way it used to be. Of course he wouldn't allow it; he told Severus that the only way he could ever repay his debt was to protect her kids.

And while he knew it cruel and wrong words and come to his master about that very prophecy and how it was about a boy. Harry. It was his fault she was dead, his fault he would never have the chance to feel her friendship again.

He couldn't forgive either of the children but the boy especially, he just couldn't. Despite them being babies, despite them knowing nothing of the world surrounding, despite all of that, he would always blame those two for taking away his happiness.

* * *

_**Know this is a short chapter but I just needed to establish the difference and give you guys clues on how Severus will react to them later, I'm sorry for the shortness but if you guys like length then I recommend that you keep reading because it's kind of implied that reading involves words, anyways please follow, favorite, and review!**_


	3. Chapter 3

10 years later

"Up! Get up! Now!"

Harry woke with a start; Charlotte was already up again, staring at the floor of her cupboard while she sat on the bed the two shared.

His aunt rapped on the door again.

""Up!" she screeched. They heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. Harry rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.

Charlotte on the other hand had had nightmares for the third night in a row of men with slits for eyes and sinister smiles and a horrible "thunk" that sounded horribly like a person falling unconscious.

"You two up yet?" She demanded.

"Nearly," the two called out in unison, after pulling on his huge shirt –a hand me down from Dudley- Harry came behind Charlotte and hugged her from behind.

"Okay?"

"Of course, what did you dream about?" She asked as they got up and walked towards the kitchen.

"Charlotte you should have seen it, there were moto—" but at that moment there was a series of wails coming from the kitchen.

"36? It was 37 last year!" Screamed Dudley.

"I do wish he would shut up, on the other hand though I do hope he's burning calories with all the noise though." Charlotte said, perhaps a little too loudly because as they walked in Petunia whacked her across the head.

"Charlie, we have Ms Figg remember, you two can bond over Fudge again unless the things got himself killed," Harry reminded his sister while their cousin whined, their aunt calming him down pulling him into her bony arms and their uncle picking up the phone.

"You shouldn't be so rude Harry, she's an old lady and she's really very lovely, I admit she does have quite an obsession with those cats but Fudge is the cutest animal I have ever seen," Charlotte reprimanded quietly.

Before Harry could reply however he was cut off yet again by his aunt this time.

"Vernon we are not taking those two with us, they're socially deformed. Besides they could do something," she lowered his voice and added a knowing look, "_…odd."_

"And what do you suggest, we leave them here? Wonderful idea Petunia, maybe I should phone the fire department in advance too?"

Surprise, surprise, Dudley started wailing again as he heard of the possibility of his cousins coming to his birthday but his parents were to busy thinking of a solution to this travesty it seemed to notice.

"I am not leaving them in that car either, it's new and they'll mess it up." Their uncle added, a vein coming from his forehead looking ready to burst in concentration.

"I- I don't want them ruin-ruining my birthday," Dudley sobbed, of course they weren't real tears but it was enough to get a response from his parents.

"Oh Dudders we won't let them ruin your special day honey, of course not, you'll have so much fun with Piers and you'll get ice-cream and it'll be perfect," she promised.

"Now we're a bloody disease are we?" Charlotte muttered.

Uncle Vernon shot them both a venomous look and said,

"If you even dare ruin my son's day there will be no meals for a week, understood?"

"Yes Uncle Vernon," replied Charlotte in a sickly sweet tone.

He ignored that and stared Harry in the eyes.

"No funny business." He stated, normally Harry may have the courage to make a remark of some kind but he just stared at the floor and understood how he may endanger his sisters health if he even attempted so.

"Understood sir." He said simply.

After he had walked away to deal with his rather angry looking son who was already screaming at his mother with more maliciousness then the average new 11 year old has, Charlotte had already started shouting at him quietly for not standing up for himself.

"If you let him do that once then he'll do it again, do you –"

"Charlotte, no meals equals starvation; you're skinny enough do you really think you can deprive your body of the little nutrients it gets already?" He asked her.

It was true; the girl stood at 4 foot 8 and was small and scrawny if ever you saw them, much like her brother except he was slightly taller. In fact the only huge difference was the features on which the small and scrawny stood.

Charlotte had flaming red locks in the style of a fringe which was really the only place where her hair stood straight and not in the wild curls that dominated the rest of her hair. Her eyes on the other hand big and brown that melted most strangers' hearts despite how stone faced they may have seemed at first.

Harry on the other hands face held green eyes that were impossible to stare at, they held an abyss of hidden secrets just hiding over another one. Though this was when you could see them as a mop of black hair normally covered it which was a constant annoyance of his aunt and uncle and had tried many a time to cut but curiously it would always grow back that way in the morning. A fact he was sure infuriated his relatives as in the morning they would always hold such odd expressions that were always unable to read, although this may be because of the shouting that followed as a result of their annoyance.

The front bell then rang which was without a doubt going to be Piers Polkiss mother by the sounds of the voice, it really did have an annoying tone to it and it quite hurt actually listening to it for an extended period of time.

While Petunia explained the change in plans you could practically hear Ms Polkiss' eyebrows rise at the information of the twin's appearance but she left her son in the hands of the Dursleys in any means. The woman probably had some obscure sport lesson to go to so that she could keep her physique which was not unlike Petunias.

"Out!" Petunia screeched as her family and the plus one left the front door without waiting for their niece and nephew to appear.

As the car was only a 5 seater Harry and Charlotte were forced to share a seat, not that there wasn't enough space, the two barely took up any space at all really compared to Dudley who was spilling out of his seat and into Piers' by the looks of things.

20 minutes later after repeated "accidental" elbowing into Harrys ribs by Piers and constant snickering from the two boys they had come to a light where a motorcycle had just gone before it had turned red Mr Dursley seemed quite put out by the thing, cursing about how the ruddy things should be banned.

"Oh look Harry, it's like your dream," Charlotte remarked.

"Please, do share this oh so magnificent dream that you have been blessed with boy," Mr Dursley mocked, venting (once again) his anger onto Harry.

Harry mumbled something about the huge man and the motorcycle all the while blushing red while Piers and Dudley snickered at his discomfort.

"Speak up now," Vernon continued his verbal torture.

"I said there were flying motorcycles and –"

All of a sudden the brakes were slammed and he turned back facing Harry so close you could see the spit hit Harrys face while he tried not to aggravate his uncle by removing it so obviously.

"**THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS FLYING MOTORCYCLES**," Vernon shouted

"He's not daft Uncle-" Charlotte started on Harry's behalf.

"Don't you dare speak back to him like that," Petunia practically seethed back with less volume but it still had the same effect.

"I understand okay? There is no such thing as Flying Motorcycles." Harry repeated back to Uncle Vernon trying to avoid confrontation.

It was quiet for a few minutes as his aunt and uncle realised this was conversation better left at home as it could embarrass them both in the social cliques which were the cruel uncaring parents that populated Little Whinging.

Even Piers and Dudley who had never been in this position before seemed uncomfortable. Although this was short lived because after 10 minutes they started laughing at some unknown man's misfortune.

When they got to the zoo and parked the car no one but Piers and Dudley had spoken which had proved awkward because they refused to even look at the children this resulted in the man you pay at the door to go in thinking they were with another group for a moment or two.

"Do you two want ice-cream?" Petunia asked, clearly not directed at the twins.

They didn't really respond with a yes or no but more of a garbled mess of positive reactions and half spoken words which apparently satisfied Petunia because a moment later she was taking out her purse as she went up to the lady with her husband side by side while the children followed, Harry and Charlotte doing a sort of march to avoid being shouted at.

While Piers and Dudley discussed the ice cream they were going to have the ice-cream the lady at the stand tried initiating conversation with Petunia and Vernon when it failed however she asked the twins if they would like anything and to avoid embarrassment Vernon picked for them the cheapest lemon lollies there were.

After they had all entered the inside enclosure they all left in their pairs which had been picked earlier, the twins, Piers and Dudley and Aunt Petunia and an even more disgruntled Vernon now that the two had been given an ice-cream, despite the cheapness of them both. The two pairs each had their ice-creams and while Charlotte and Harry's were considerably cheaper they were just as tasty and lasted quite a while so there was little to complain about.

The zoo was fairly exotic, featuring animals from all over, Harry had never seen so many and every one of them looked beautiful, so different from the squirrels and various birds that populated little whinging. Not all the animals looked happy though; they had come across a zebra and a group of bears who looked especially uncomfortable in their habitats which looked quite small and lacked privacy.

"Harry look! The wolves are playing tig!" Charlotte laughed

Indeed the wolves were and they were pretty things, with blonde and brown coats that shined in the sunlight provided by the window.

Eventually Harry dragged her away and onto something that both caught each other's eyes.

"Oh Harry," Charlotte said as the heart breaking sight of this snake broke two hearts simultaneously.

They were not right next to the snake enclosure but instead watching Piers and Dudley at it and they were tapping, screeching and shouting at a poor snake that was completely and utterly alone.

After a while they grew bored and left the snake alone to torture some other poor creature and so the two drew closer to the snake, if nothing else to protect it from any other visitors who may find it acceptable to do the same.

They watched it for several moments before Harry said "I'm sorry for all that, if it makes it any better than you're not the only one."

"It'sssss fine, really"

"Harry." Said Charlotte, "I swear the snake just spoke."

"I did," the snake added blinking once as if talking to a child.

"Ah, um see not to be rude Mr, em, Snake but we were well, under the impression that uh Snakes aren't really um, all that vocal?" Charlotte corrected while Harry just stared unsure what was happening.

"We are, it's just not all that often someone speakss back." It was a much laid back snake it seemed to not be surprised at all.

"Ah, well since you can understand I apologise profoundly for my cousin's behaviour all the same"

"Do you live with him?" the snake politely asked.

"Unfortunately," Harry added still shocked at the conversation taking place.

"You may think so but I promise you despite how horrible a person may be it is better than being on your own." The snake hissed sadly.

"Did you miss your family? Or Brazil" Charlotte asked. After reading the sign,

"**BRAZILLIAN BOA CONSTRICTOR"**

The snake motioned its head to the side indicating for them to look again.

"**BRAZILLIAN BOA CONSTRICTOR- BRED IN CAPTIVITY"**

"That must be awful, at least I have my brother," Charlotte said.

"And I Charlotte" Harry added considering a life where he would have to endure his extended family by himself.

"It'ss aw-" but he was cut off when Dudley and Piers noticed the now active snake.

"Look! Mum, Dad, look what the snake is doing!" Dudley elbowing the two to the ground, pressing his snout like nose to the glass.

All of a sudden however the sheet of glass separating the two disappeared and Dudley too had fallen over into the snake enclosure.

"AHHHHHHH!" Screamed Dudley as the snake looked at him and moved forward where Dudley was, but passed him sliding down the tank that once constrained him and into the open space.

"Thanksssss amigos, BRAZIL HERE I COME!" the snake hissed while visitors everywhere screamed and Harry and Charlotte laughed at Dudley crying and screaming in fear, Pier looking about scared of even touching the two kids and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia looking fiercer then they'd ever seen them which was around the time they stopped laughing.

After the security apologized offering them all kinds of things because of their trouble almost begging them not to sue and Dudley had been given blankets and towels the Dursleys completely done just decided to drive Piers back and apologize once again and went home.

When they got home however it was then the two knew they were in trouble.

"I warned you! I warned you to not pull any of that freakish stuff," He gradually raised his voice growing momentum. "AND THEN YOU ATTEMPT TO MURDER MY SON?"

"We didn't do anything! The glass just disappeared, it was like Magic!" Harry tried to explain.

"There is no such thing as magic" he stated, long past normal rage "Go to your cupboard; there will be no meals until… until… Until I decide." And then he rushed off to deal with his quite wet and shaken son.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hiya! This chapter is pretty much strict canon so be warned, I also wanted to let you guys know that this will be quite different to the Harry Potter you guys know, I'm making a few differences besides just the twin thing. I hope you like it though, and will keep reading**

**Oh and I should have added this in before but no, I do not own Harry Potter or anything regarding the Harry Potter world- except this fanfiction of course, that's mine. Have fun!**

* * *

They walked the short distance to their cupboard in silence and there they sat in silence for at least an hour. Harry hunched over his back leaning on the crumbling wall while Charlotte sat on the floor, her back being supported by the rickety bed that the two were forced to share.

As Charlotte sat as she sat on the thought that there was only one person in the world who loved her and as he was already her brother and in the same situation as her she just started crying at the thought of being alone forever.

Harry reached over and took her hand, knowing that despite the events that had transpired throughout the day she was probably crying over the same thing.

"I love you Charlotte, don't cry," Harry whispered into her ear.

"You have to though. Harry what are we going to do, we don't even have a plan and we have no one to help us, we're going to die like this aren't we?" She got up and sat on the bed that Harry was already sitting on to face him, tears still fresh in her eyes.

"We could run away?"

"Right, because that would work," Charlotte sighed.

"Someone will come for us one day, we'll be so loved, so appreciated, I promise." Harry knew it was all false, words that's only use was to comfort, but as long as it accomplished that he felt no guilt feeding her words which were never to come true. But he did wish they were true.

"When we turn 14 we can get a job, and we'll work as much as we can and we'll make so much money that we'll be able to buy a house and then… and then…"

"It'll all be okay, and it will be, I'll protect you." Harry said while they stared at the wall again in silence.

"Charlotte?" he whispered.

He waited a few moments and then turned to look at her,

Her eyes closed and her breathing slowed he turned back to his side, took the thin blanket and rolled it up over her.

And he wished, he wished he lived in a big house with two loving parents who cared about him, asked him about his day, he wished he could have friends who came over on weekends so that they could laugh about some dumb thing at school.

Harry Potter wished he was normal.

Of course after Charlotte fainted on the second day at school they became quite flustered, letting the two eat again starting immediately, the portions though not big after two days without food were a relief nonetheless. However instead Vernon and Petunia gave the twins the longest punishment they had ever received, confined to their room it was amazing how many games of tic tac toe and hangman they could get through, but eventually they let them out of their cupboard after the holidays had already started.

Both were glad that school was over, but Dudleys gang were hard to escape, Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all in their own right big and stupid, but Dudley reigned over them as he was bigger and stupider then all of them put together. They ran about the house beating Harry, pulling Charlottes hair, stealing Harry's glasses and overall laughing at the twos misfortune but unlike school Harry and Charlotte could go out and get away from them, at least for short periods of time, the two played at parks made up stories of someone coming to save them, did whatever they could to not think about the dull reality and kept all concentration on the life they could wish for.

There was some hope however, in the September Harry and Charlotte would be attending Stonewall High, the local comprehensive secondary school. Dudley on the other hand was going to the highly prestigious Smeltings academy, where they would train young boys to be as boring and uncreative as their fathers, Piers Polkiss joining him in this glorious endeavour. Of course Dudley found the twos attendance to Stonewall high very amusing.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet first day at Stonewall," he told Harry one day while Charlotte was cleaning, "Want to practise?"

"No thanks," said Harry, "The toilets never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could figure out what he had said.

One day in July, Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, something Charlotte had seen and had snickered at when looking at the teen on the front cover with knee length shorts and a bowl cut looking like he had appeared from some kind of Christian boyband,

"I don't know what you're laughing at,

Charlotte fawned over a nephew of hers and listened to her rants about a man she knew named Mundungus while Harry watched the television and pretended not to notice the chocolate cake that tasted utterly dreadful.

Charlotte was commenting on how lovely Mrs Figg had looked when she was younger when she noticed a picture sticking out between pictures of her, her husband, and what looked like friends and family.

"Mrs Figg, who are they in the picture?"

There was a picture of a toddler in what looked like wellies that came up to her thighs smiling a toothy grin with what looked like a boy a few years older than Harry with another boy the same age while they seemed to be looking at each other in a knowing way while they smiled kindly next to the child.

"Oh." Mrs Figgs fond expression turned grim as she looked in her direction.

"That's me as a child with my brother and our cousin, the one with the fairer hair is my brother Ernest while the darker haired boy was our cousin, Samuel."

"That was before the war, 6 years before it actually," she continued, her head turned elsewhere, looking for something else to catch her attention. "They, well…They left for war when I was 9; they were some of the first actually."

"I'm sorry, did they survive?" asked Charlotte, hoping it wouldn't upset her too much.

"Samuel did. They weren't in the same regiment as Ernest was, Ernest was in a…" she stopped thinking for a word, "A different kind of war effort, very complicated really. When Samuel came out he wasn't the same though, he had shellshock," she paused. "It was nasty that…"

Mrs Figg sat thinking about this- her mouth twisting into a smile in sad acceptance, her eyebrows drawing upwards in a "It is what it is," sort of look. Charlotte who suddenly felt terribly guilty for bringing it up, if Harry had heard her bluntness towards such a sensitive subject then he'd be shocked but as he was in the kitchen (trying to find them both some sort of pumpkin cake which Mrs Figg assured them was very nice) she was only subject to her own guilt.

The elderly lady faced Charlotte,

"Little girls shouldn't be thinking about that though, at your age you should be focusing on boys, dresses, and school," She stroked Charlottes hair at this, "Do whatever you can in life dear, don't think twice and don't look back." She paused, "But you musn't forget to live it,"

* * *

That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings' boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.

As they looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Both Harry and Charlotte tried not to burst out laughing at their pig resembling cousin who looked like he was trying not to pop the buttons of the hideous thing.

There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. Charlotte and Harry raised their eyebrows at each other, the tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water.

"What on earth?" Charlotte exclaimed.

"It's your brothers new school uniform," she said.

Harry looked in the bowl again.

"Oh," he said, "I didn't realize it had to be so wet."

"Don't be stupid," Aunt Petunia snapped, "After I've finished Dudley's old clothes will look just like everyone else's uniform," While Harry doubted this he didn't say anything and Petunias gaze shifted to her niece,

"I went to the charity shop and your uniform is on the counter, go put it away." She ordered.

While Charlotte left Dudley and her uncle came in. Dudley roughly walked into her while Harry's back was turned (looking at the grey glob of clothes that he was to wear and slowly pondering if he could make his own) her body hitting the wall on impact before she got up again to put away her things

Both Dudley and his uncle had the same wrinkled nose and Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.

They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.

"Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.

"Make Harry get it."

"Get the mail, Harry."

"Make Dudley get it."

"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."

Harry dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and – 2 letters, addressed to Harry and Charlotte.

Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? He had no friends, no other relatives - he didn't belong to the library, so he'd never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.

Turning the envelope over, his hand trembling, Harry saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.

"Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Charlotte who had put her things away came out and noticed him staring at the mail.

"What is it?" She took the pile and saw the two envelopes and nearly dropped them in shock. She quickly walked to the kitchen dropping the rest of the letters before trying to rush out again.

""Dad!" said Dudley suddenly, "Dad, Charlotte's got something!"

Charlotte was on the point of unfolding her letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Vernon.

"That's mine!" she said, trying to snatch it back.

"Who'd be writing to you?" Sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge.

""P-P-Petunia!" he gasped.

Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.

"Vernon! Oh my goodness - Vernon!"

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten about the children still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick.

"I want to read that letter," he said loudly.

"Excuse me, those are our letters," said Charlotte furiously.

"Let me see it!" demanded Dudley.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, then returning to pick Charlotte up and roughly drop her on the floor, slamming the door behind the protests. They all then promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole; Dudley won, so Harry, his glasses dangling from one ear, and Charlotte whose hair was now in total disarray lay flat on their stomachs to listen at the crack between door and floor.

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address - how could they possibly know where they sleep? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching - spying - might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly.

"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want -"

Charlotte could see Uncle Vernon's shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen.

"No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer... Yes, that's best... we won't do anything...

"But -"

"One is bad enough but I refuse to have two, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took them in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"

That evening when he got back from work, Uncle Vernon did something he'd never done before; he visited the twins in their cupboard.

"Where's our letters?" said Harry, the moment Uncle Vernon had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing to us?"

"No one. it was addressed to you two by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly, "I have burned them."

"What they addressed two letters, to two other siblings, who both live in "The cupboard under the stairs." Said Charlotte, sarcasm lacing her words.

"It's more common than you would think," A vein twitching on his forehead, visibly trying to calm himself.

"We feel that the two of you are too old to be sharing a bed and obviously this room isn't as… spacious." He said, looking around.

"It's a cupboard." Harry said.

"Well, er, yes." He contorted his face into a smile, which looked to be quite painful.

"We thought it would be nice if you two had your own rooms, Charlotte is to have the guest bedroom and Harry Dudley's second bedroom."

"Is this about the letters?" Charlotte asked.

"Don't ask questions!" snapped her uncle. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."

The Dursleys' house had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visitors (usually Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge), one where Dudley slept, and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom.

The two grabbed the few things they owned and went upstairs, upon reaching the top turning in opposite directions so that they could reach each room they had been given, Charlotte's to the right, Harry's the left.

When both children reached the room given to them each sat on the bed already in the room and each stared at their surroundings.

Nearly everything in Dudley's room was broken.

The month-old video camera Dudley had received for his birthday was lying on top of a small, working tank Dudley had once driven over the next door neighbour's dog; in the corner was Dudley's first-ever television set, which he'd put his foot through when his favourite program had been cancelled; there was a large birdcage, which had once held a parrot that Dudley had swapped at school for a real air rifle, which was up on a shelf with the end all bent because Dudley had sat on it. Other shelves were full of books that Charlotte had stolen dozens of times only to meticulously put them back in the hopes they would not be noticed, and unremarkably never were.

Charlotte's on the other hand held a different story, the bed that sat in the left corner was that of a queen sized bed, bigger than Harry's but it was quite obviously sinking in the middle (probably as a result of having to carry Marge's weight) across the room there was pretty much nothing, a few pictures of the Dursleys with Marge, one of Dudley and Marge where Dudley was looking away in the distance (again the probability of it being a television was quite high) and another of Vernon and Marge, looking very similar, moustache and all.

Other than that it held virtually nothing, it was somewhat comforting, there wasn't too much to transition verses, say, Dudley's second bedroom, where "stuff" was almost everywhere, and visible carpet virtually nowhere.

From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother, I don't want him in there... I need that room... make him get out..." Petunia not sounding all that happy either at losing their guest bedroom.

Harry sighed and stretched out on the bed. Yesterday both children would have given anything to be up here. Today they'd both rather be back in their cupboard with those letters than up there without them.

Harry got up and walked the short distance to Charlotte's room, knocking at the door asking to come in.

Charlotte expected it to be her aunt, telling her that they had thought it through again and that she was to go back to her cupboard,

"Come in."

"I want those letters," was all Harry said declaring himself, walking over to her bed, collapsing on the bed.

"You're not the only one, who writes letters like that anymore? I mean, the handwriting was so… Wow. It looked like Calligraphy Harry." She always wished she could write beautifully, it seemed to be a trait of every girl, nice handwriting, and she did feel somewhat left out on this gene that graced every girl she knew except her.

"I was there Charlotte," laughing at the awed tone of her voice. "Who knows, maybe it's a warrant for our arrest."

"Right, because the Dursleys would shelter us from that huh?"

"Okay probably not," he said, "but they'll have to give up eventually, won't they?"

"Of course, they wouldn't know patience if it bit them in the back," said Charlotte.

"How exactly do you bite someone on the back?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, you could always try it on Dudley? Our cousin has more than enough skin for it to work."

"Charlotte, I'm not putting my mouth anywhere near his body, I'd probably get diabetes anyway," Harry joked and got up to leave.

Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother, and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof, and he still didn't have his room back.

Charlotte thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing she'd opened the letter in the hall. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly.

When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to Harry, made Dudley go and get it. They heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's two other ones! 'Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive -'"

With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Harry and Charlotte right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letter from him, which was made difficult by the fact that Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind and Charlotte grabbed his hands from the front, trying to push them away. After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by the Smelting stick, Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with the children's letters clutched in his hand.

"Go to your cupboard - I mean, your bedrooms," he wheezed at Harry and Charlotte.

"Dudley - go - just go."

Harry walked round and round his new room. Someone knew he had moved out of his cupboard and they seemed to know he hadn't received his first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time he'd make sure they didn't fail. He had a plan.

The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Harry turned it off quickly and dressed silently. He mustn't wake the Dursleys. He stole downstairs without turning on any of the lights.

He was going to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first. His heart hammered as he crept across the dark hall toward the front door -

Harry leapt into the air; he'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat - something alive!

Lights clicked on upstairs and to his horror Harry realized that the big, squashy something had been his uncle's face. Uncle Vernon had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure that Harry didn't do exactly what he'd been trying to do. He shouted at Harry for about half an hour and then told him to go and make a cup of tea. Charlotte (who had always been a light sleeper) got up to hear the commotion and made tea with Harry as he shuffled miserably off into the kitchen and by the time they got back, the mail had arrived, right into Uncle Vernon's lap.

"I wish you would have told me, I could've helped you," said Charlotte not unkindly.

"How?" Charlotte accepted that, she had no idea how she'd help him but she did feel left out.

Harry could see six letters addressed in green ink.

"Give us -" Charlotte began, but Uncle Vernon was tearing the letters into pieces before his eyes. Uncle Vernon didn't go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot.

"See," he explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails, "if they can't deliver them they'll just give up."

"I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon."

"Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me," said Uncle Vernon, trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him.

On Friday, no less than twenty four letters arrived for them. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.

Uncle Vernon stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could go out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises.

On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Forty eight letters to Harry and Charlotte found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milkman had handed Aunt Petunia through the living room window the other two dozen being found in oranges Aunt Petunia were having for lunch, a remainder from the fruit cake she had made yesterday, in which there had been no letters. While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office, the dairy, and the supermarket trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food processor.

"Who on earth wants to talk to you two this badly?" Dudley asked them in amazement.

On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.

"No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, "no damn letters today -"

Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, sixty or seventy letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked, but the twins leapt into the air trying to catch one.

"Out! OUT!"

Uncle Vernon seized Harry around the waist and threw him into the hall. While Aunt Petunia grabbed Charlotte's hand roughly and again throwing her out into the hall, Dudley ran out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.

"That does it," said Uncle Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his moustache at the same time. I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

He looked so dangerous with half his mustache missing that no one dared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway.

Dudley was sniffling in the back seat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, VCR, and computer in his sports bag.

They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while. "Shake'em off... shake 'em off," he would mutter whenever he did this. They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programs he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.

Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Charlotte got her own room, which was in and of itself was identical to Dudley's and Harry's, only lacking one bed, where she hid a secret of her own. While Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Harry stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering...

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.

"'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter or Miss. C. Potter? Only I got about two 'undred of these at the front desk."

She held up two letters so they could read the green ink address:

Mr. H. Potter

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

And;

Miss. C. Potter

Room 15

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared.

"I'll take them," said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.

Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a ploughed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully late that afternoon. Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared.

It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley snivelled.

"It's Monday," he told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television. "

Monday. This reminded Harry of something. If it was Monday - and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days the week, because of television - then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry's eleventh birthday. Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun - last year, the Dursleys had given him a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks, Charlotte being given 10 pages of paper and the stump of a pencil.

Still, you weren't eleven every day.

Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought.

"Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!"

It was very cold outside the car. Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain; there was no television in there.

"Storm forecast for tonight!" said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"

Harry picked up his speed, leaving Charlotte to walk alone, as he made his way to his Aunt's side,

"Aunt Petunia, is this really necessary?"

She gave him a glare and he shot back to his sisters side, not until he heard her mumble something that sounded remarkably like "I don't know,"

A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them.

"I've already got us some rations," said Uncle Vernon, "so all aboard!"

It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.

The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.

Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and four bananas. He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked and shrivelled up.

"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully.

He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Harry privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few mouldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Harry and Charlotte were left to find the softest bit of floor he could and to curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket, clinging to each other for warmth and comfort.

The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Harry couldn't sleep and Charlotte struggled with sleep at the best of times. He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, Charlotte just sat up eventually and as if reading Harrys mind, they moved over to their cousin, hearing his stomach rumbling with hunger. Dudley's snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Charlotte they'd be eleven in ten minutes' time. They lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if the Dursleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now.

"Harry, I have a present for you," whispered Charlotte in the dark, lightning flashing so her face lit up, to some it would be scary but Charlotte just looked like a ray of hope in the dark, the light framing her face quite splendidly.

"How on earth did you get me a present?" Harry asked, curious as to what she had brought.

Charlotte opened the top of the torch that she had been made to carry, containing a piece of paper in place of batteries.

'Mr. H. Potter,

The Smallest Bedroom,

4 Privet Drive,

Little Whinging,

Surrey

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I wanted you to have a gift and…" she trailed away, hoping he wouldn't shout at her for not telling him.

Instead of saying anything he hugged his sister so tightly, thanking the stars for such a person to be there with him in what seemed like a nightmare.

Five minutes to go. Harry heard something creak outside. He hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, ruining the moment his sister had gave him, although it might be a little warmer if it did.

"I'm sorry I don't have a gift for you but I promise I'll get you one soon, probably nothing like this I'm afraid but I'll get you something," putting the letter to one side so he could kiss his sisters forehead and thank her repeatedly.

"I couldn't get one of mine though so I have no idea what it says," she admitted.

Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that?

"You could have opened mi-"

"Don't be silly Harry it's your gift, now open it!"

Two minutes to go.

He looked over its letter, not wanting to break it, it was so fragile, the most beautiful thing he had ever owned and he was going to rip it open. How unfair.

One minute to go and he'd be eleven. Thirty seconds... twenty ... ten... nine – he ripped the thing open, taking the letter out - three... two... one...

BOOM.

The whole shack shivered and Charlotte jumped while Harry sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.


End file.
